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“Welcome to Boston,” Gavin said on New Year’s Eve, shaking Rafael Moon’s hand, impressed by the strength of his grip.

Damn , he had a physical presence. It was rare for Gavin to have to look up to meet someone’s gaze, but Moon was 6’7” and 245 pounds.

His flight had been delayed due to inclement weather—not really a shock in the winter, especially coming from Minnesota to Boston—but it meant he had about three hours between when his flight landed and when he had to play.

Gavin had volunteered to pick him up at the airport and drive him straight to the arena all the way across the city.

Moon looked tired now, his full mouth drooping a little at the corners and his brown eyes a bit vague, but he brightened at the greeting. “Thanks, uh, Gavin.”

Gavin grinned, already reaching for his suitcase. “C’mon, let’s get loaded up and get you to the Hawk’s Nest.”

They made small talk on the way to the arena as Gavin kept his foot on the accelerator and took corners as quickly as possible, though he was painfully aware of every second ticking by.

“I hope you don’t have too long of a pre-game routine,” he said grimly as he skidded up to the players’ entrance at the arena with little time to spare.

Rafe grinned, opening his door. “Nah, it’s not too bad.”

“Good.” Gavin tossed his keys to a startled-looking security guard, then helped unload Rafael’s belongings.

Rafe handled his own sticks, skates, and gloves, while Gavin wrestled with his suitcase and duffle bag.

Gavin gave him a brief tour as they hustled down the corridors that led to the locker room, pointing out the important things. “We’ll do a full tour when you get your badge and everything. But this’ll have to do for now.”

“No, I appreciate it,” Rafe said.

“I’ll leave your luggage with the equipment manager. They have your uniform ready for you,” Gavin said, swiping his badge across the card reader next to the dressing room door. “We put you in a stall next to Mouse.”

“Thanks,” Rafe said, pausing to glance back at him. “Thanks for getting me here.”

Gavin had a feeling he meant more than picking him up at the airport and driving him to the arena. “I hope it works out for you,” he said sincerely. “Sometimes, we all need a fresh start.”

With a faint smile and nod, Rafe disappeared through the doors into the locker room. Gavin stood back, watching as the guys lifted their heads, immediately spotting the newcomer.

Tanner whooped out a greeting and Connor rose to his feet, smiling, already holding a hand out, the consummate captain. Jesse—half-dressed in his goalie gear—lumbered over to his side, pulling Mouse along with him, face bright and animated as he introduced Rafe to his new defensive partner.

This was always the bittersweet part for Gavin.

He could wheel and deal, finesse other GMs into parting with valuable assets and sweet-talk players onto his team, but in the end, it was up to the boys in that room.

How Rafael Moon fit in, how any of Gavin’s acquisitions fit in, were all up to him and his fellow players. And yes, to a certain extent up to the coach in how he used them, but ultimately, it all had to do with team chemistry.

Being a general manager was a lot like being a matchmaker.

Gavin had to suss out who would mesh well with the overall team dynamic, what wingers would complement centers, which D-pairs would be able to work together. He wasn’t always right—there had been a few painful duds at the beginning. He’d overpaid for guys who had wound up busts, and predicted dynamic pairings that had fallen flat, but every time, he was hopeful.

The doors swung shut again, closing Gavin off from the team, and he sent a quiet prayer up to the hockey gods that this was one of the times he’d gotten it right.

“Hey! Did you get him?” Dakota asked a little while later, his expression happy and relaxed as he looped his arm through Gavin’s.

“I got him,” Gavin said, letting out a sigh. “He’s with the team now.”

“Good job!” Dakota pressed a kiss to his cheek and Gavin smiled. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” Gavin said fervently.

They were in the hallway outside of the owners’ box and Paul Stevenson shot them a sidelong glance as he passed. Gavin ignored it.

He still hadn’t told the team he and Dakota were dating, but there was a big ‘welcome to Boston’ party being held for Rafe at O’Neill’s Pub tonight where Gavin might have the opportunity to say something.

Then again, he might show up with Dakota on his arm and let people reach their own conclusions. He certainly didn’t need to make a big production out of it.

The press conference scheduled in a few days would be more than enough to deal with. Between announcing he was stepping down from one of his roles, the hiring of Finnegan O’Shea, and coming clean about his relationship with Dakota, it would be plenty .

He suggested they take the low-key approach at the pub tonight to Dakota, who nodded. “Yeah, sounds great.”

“It’ll be our first date,” Gavin teased.

Dakota looked startled. “Oh, I suppose it will be.”

Gavin gave him a crooked smile. “This is what you get when you get involved with a busy, important man like me.” He winked to let Dakota know he was kidding.

Although … well, it was true, wasn’t it? The busy part at least. His time was limited. Even if he was working to find a better work/life balance, he was never going to be the kind of guy who had a nine-to-five Monday through Friday job.

But Dakota shrugged. “Worth it. Besides, we’ll have all of next summer off, right?”

Gavin winced. “Uh, I hate to tell you this, but summer is pretty bad for me too. Free agency and the combine and draft and all …”

Dakota laughed. “Ehh, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

He sounded so happy, so sure of himself and of their relationship that Gavin reached out and pulled him close, pressing a quick but sizzling kiss to Dakota’s lips.

“Fuck I love you,” he murmured.

Dakota smiled, cupping his cheek. “Good. I love you too. Now, I’m going to go downstairs and get my workout in. See you after the game?”

“See you then,” Gavin promised.

Later that evening, following a brief press conference, Gavin sat in a box on the executive level of the arena and held his breath as he stared down at the ice. The team wasn’t even playing at the moment since it was the middle of the second intermission but, God, he needed them to pull out a win tonight.

At the moment, the score was 3-4 and not to Boston’s advantage.

It would take a while to get Rafael Moon settled into his role. For him to learn their defensive system. The guy had arrived today and was probably tired and stiff from the flight here and the shortened pregame preparation. But even the tiniest glimmer that he might be a good fit for the team … that wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

“So, do you think they’ll start speculating about us?”

Gavin glanced over to see Finn smiling as he nodded toward where they both knew the cameras were set up and probably trained on them. Especially because Finn was usually in the lower bowl with his kids.

“Speculating about us ?” Gavin frowned, confused. “But you’re married. And straight, as far as I’m aware.”

Finn threw his head back and laughed. “Straight and happily married, yes. I have no interest in leaving Jenna for anyone else, especially you. I meant professionally , not personally. Although, I’m starting to think I should be offended that you looked put out at the idea of being romantically linked to me.”

Grinning, Gavin slapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. You’re not my type.”

“Now I am offended.”

Gavin snorted. Finn wasn’t the best looking of the O’Shea brothers by any means. His pale skin and strawberry blonde hair made him look a bit washed out and he lacked the bulk his father and younger brothers had. But all of the O’Shea men possessed a certain charm. A certain swagger and knack for good banter.

It would make Finn fun to work with, but he did have a point.

“Don’t take it personally,” Gavin said aloud. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Right, you mentioned you’re dating the team’s yoga instructor, right?”

“Yoga and Pilates,” Gavin said proudly. “Dakota’s incredible. We’re really starting to see the results of his training. Faster skating, better flexibility, fewer instances of strains …”

He’d recently had to admit to Dakota that their deal had been fulfilled and he’d definitely earned the new equipment. Though it was Finn who’d be dealing with all that in the future.

Finn laughed. “We sure weren’t doing anything like that back when I was playing. It was all clean and jerks and box jumps and shit.”

“Took its toll on guys too, didn’t it?” Gavin said with a wry grin.

“It certainly did.” Finn shot a rueful glance toward his feet. “Two ankle surgeries for me.”

“There you go,” Gavin said.

“I definitely like the direction things are going. Whenever Kelly and Lindy are home, we talk training and I’m impressed with what players are doing. Both with the team and then off-season work.”

“Yeah, Anders is …” Gavin gave a low whistle. “He never does anything halfway, does he?”

Finn shot him a smile. “He does not. We were sad to lose him here in Boston when the league expanded.”

Years ago, the expansion had added two teams to the mix, one in Evanston, Illinois and another in Portland, Oregon. At the time, Anders Lindholm had been absolutely tearing up the league as a goal scoring center for Boston, and everyone had been shocked that the Harriers had allowed him to be available in the expansion draft.

Then again, with two O’Sheas on their roster at the time, they’d probably decided to roll the dice, choosing to stick with their local boys instead of the Swedish phenom.

It was still a toss-up if that had been a wise move or not. Boston had won multiple Stanley Cups in that time, while it had taken years for Evanston to even manage one. Though Anders would be eligible for the Hockey Hall of Fame any day now and there was no question he’d be a shoe-in.

Who knows what Boston could have managed if he’d stayed.

“He’s done incredible work with training since his retirement. That skills camp he’s running …” Gavin whistled lowly.

“I know. I wish I’d had that in my day.”

“Well, the good news is, you can help build that kind of training for the team we have now,” Gavin pointed out.

“Good thing I signed the paperwork this morning, huh?” Finn said with a grin.

“Good thing,” Gavin agreed. “God knows we need you. I need you.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Now who sounds like they’re flirting?”

God, Finn was as bad as his father Declan.

“Ha! I mean I need someone to take over half the workload,” Gavin admitted. “I need to have my attention on drafting, development, and trades.”

“And I get the rest?” Finn sounded amused. “Including training?”

Gavin shrugged. “If you think you can handle it.”

A spark of competitiveness lit up Finn’s eyes, the way Gavin knew it would. “Honestly, I’ve been itching for this challenge for a while,” he said.

He’d said as much during their previous meetings and Gavin was very glad to hear it.

“I can’t say I blame you,” Gavin said thoughtfully. “I mean, going to the private sector, getting involved in investment banking … what the fuck were you thinking?”

Finn huffed quietly. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought, ‘well, it’ll be better for my family and maybe it would be good to see what’s outside of the hockey world.’ Turns out, I hated every second of it. Jenna knew I was miserable though and I’ve been toying with some possible options for a while. Your offer came at the perfect time.”

“I’m glad. I’m not surprised you came back though. Once a hockey player, always a hockey player,” Gavin said with an understanding nod.

Finn sighed, surveying the ice below. “Not a minute goes by that I don’t miss playing.”

“Me neither,” Gavin said softly. “And I only got a fraction of what you had.”

Finn’s smile was understanding. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

“Me too.”

“But hey.” Finn nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. “There’s still a chance you could lift the Cup someday.”

In unison, they rapped their knuckles on the railing, even though it was made of metal and not wood.

“Yeah, but first, we’ve gotta whip this team into shape,” Gavin said as he returned his attention to where they were setting up for the faceoff at the beginning of the third period.

“I can’t fucking wait,” Finn said.

They bumped knuckles and yes, Gavin thought ruefully, if the cameras caught that, the press and fans would certainly be speculating about what that meant for the team.

Ahh well, they’d make their official announcement soon enough.

“So,” Gavin said a few minutes later as he watched Rafael Moon wheel around the net, collecting the puck and shooting it to Graham. He fired it toward the goal, where it pinged off the post. “What do you think of Moon so far?”

Finn looked at the Jumbotron and squinted. “Uhh, well, he’s only played two periods so far …”

Gavin laughed. “I know. Just curious about your initial impression.”

Finn shrugged. “He’s got good size. Great reach. He takes up a lot of space which should make him hard to play against. I think he’s got a good edge to his game. I liked the hits he’s thrown, and he’s been blocking shots really well so far.”

“Agreed,” Gavin said.

“His positioning is shit right now,” Finn said, wincing when the play swept around the net and Moon was left in an awkward position, scrambling to catch up. “But we’ll see if it’s a matter of acclimating to the new system or if he needs to do some work on that. Either way …”

“It’s probably fixable,” Gavin said, watching as Moon headed for the bench, his shift over.

He sat next to Mouse, ducking his head to listen to him speak. At 6’3” tall, Mickey Krause wasn’t a small guy, but compared to Moon, he looked tiny.

They’d be an interesting pairing, that was for damn sure.